UNDER THE MAPLES 



yet slowly the nest grew and came into shape, and 

 finally received its finishing touches. So cautiously 

 had the birds proceeded that, were they capable 

 of concepts like us, I should fancy they flattered 

 themselves that we had not the least suspicion of 

 their little secret. The male ceased to sing near 

 the house after the nest was begun. So much time 

 elapsed after the finishing of the nest before the 

 first egg appeared in it that some members of the 

 household feared the birds had deserted it, espe- 

 cially as they were not seen about the premises for 

 several days. But the weather was wet and cool, 

 and the eggs ripened slowly. Then one morning 

 the birds were seen again, and one blue-green egg 

 was discovered in the nest. The next morning 

 another egg was added, and a third egg on the 

 third morning, and a fourth on the fourth morning. 

 In due time incubation began, and thenceforth all 

 went well with our dusky neighbors. 



It is an anxious moment for all birds when their 

 young leave the nest. One noontime by the un- 

 usual mewing of a parent catbird I felt sure that 

 the critical time had come. Sure enough, there 

 sat one of the young on a twig a few inches above 

 the nest, motionless and hushed. No lusty re- 

 sponse to the agitated cry of the mother, as is 

 usually the case with the robin. '*No pubUcity" is 

 the watchword of the young catbirds as well as 

 of the old. An hour or two later another young 



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